


Beggars Banquet

by wakethedreams



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker AU, Human Lucifer, It's like background noise really, Lucifer the Angel of Music, Lucifer/Sam Winchester - Established, Lucifer/Sam Winchester - Freeform, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Minor Castiel/Dean Winchester, Music Loving Lucifer, Slash, Smut, The Rolling Stones - Freeform, WIP, and some serious stuff, cuteness, fluffy fluff, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 16:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1191537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wakethedreams/pseuds/wakethedreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all starts one day, with one record. And before Sam knows it, he's seeing a side to Lucifer he had never known existed. Though the archangel's new music obsession doesn't come without it's hang-ups.</p><p> </p><p>Lucifer discovers human music, and more importantly The Rolling Stones. Fluff and silliness ensues. Or in which Sam discovers Luce dancing like a fool, and Dean contemplates the destruction of all music playing devices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Let it Bleed

         It all started with an innocuous trip into a record store. Sam had gone into the town near the Bunker to get some shopping done. Lucifer had tagged along out of principle, because being alone with Dean and Cas wasn’t on the top of his list of priorities. They had been walking down the sidewalk toward the small supermarket when the archangel had pointed it out.

 

“I hear records are superior to digital formats of music,” the sandy blond commented off handedly.

 

“I never took you for a music connoisseur.” Sam chuckled, smiling lightly at his companion before leading him into the store. There was an old record player from when the Men of Letters had inhabited the bunker back in the 50’s. Maybe they could find something good enough to listen to.

 

         Sam flipped through a crate of blues records absently, smirking when he came across a Robert Johnson vinyl. He wondered how many other artists had sold their souls for success. He imagined it was many, considering some of the talentless fools that had somehow made it to fame and fortune. ‘ _To each their own,’_ Sam thought.

 

         Lucifer walked back over to the Winchester slowly, a record slyly held behind his back. He slid next to Sam casually, looking down at the crate the younger was rifling through carelessly. He slid the record out from behind his back and held it out to Sam, silently asking permission because Lucifer had no money and knew Sam would be angry if he stole it.

 

“ _Let It Bleed_?” Sam questioned, finding it a little ironic that the Devil would pick out a Rolling Stones record, of all things.

 

“It is an interesting title,” Lucifer reasoned, his smile stretching into the cunning grin Sam was so used to. “Will you get it?” he finished.

 

Sam nodded in agreement, because really how could he say no? It wasn’t every day you got to buy rock ‘n roll records for Satan himself.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Sam had given the vinyl to Lucifer when they’d returned to the bunker, and the archangel quickly disappeared into the library where the old gramophone was. He left him go, knowing the elder could figure it out without Sam’s help. It was a good thing, finding something to occupy the restless angel with. He had been uneasy staying so stationary while he adjusted to being nearly graceless. It had been a difficult road, and Sam was glad to find something to brighten the other’s spirits even a little.

 

         It was nearly seven at night before Sam decided he should check on Lucifer, at Dean’s insistence.

 

“I’ve heard Country Honk play at least ten times over now, Sam.” Dean rumbled from his spot in front of the stove where he was frying some potatoes. “Gettin’ real tired of it.”

 

         Afraid of what kind of destruction his brother might cause, he had conceded and made his way back towards the library to turn the music off and coax the archangel to hopefully eat dinner. Sam nearly cried out in surprise, and amusement when he finally made it into the library.

 

Strains of ‘ _You Can’t Always Get What You Want_ ’ could be heard from the hallway, and Sam smiled softly to himself. He opened the door, words already on his lips, but he choked on them swiftly.

 

The coffee table in front of the couch and recliner had been pushed against the far wall, and the record player had been repositioned to sit next to nearest sofa. Lucifer stood in the middle of the large rectangle, eyes closed, completely consumed.

 

He swayed his hips, bending his knees and rocking his body forwards and back in time with the music, “But if you try sometimes, you might just find, you get what you need!” He sang out, unaware of his audience. “Awwh baby.” He bent over, voice rasping as he finished the chorus.

 

As the guitar sang, building into the next verse Lucifer raised his arms and sort of wiggled around in a circle while his head bobbed rhythmically. Sam grinned when he saw the look on the archangel’s face, as close to peace and pure _bliss_ he had ever seen on another being’s face in his entire life.

 

And suddenly he knew why Lucifer was known as the angel of music.

 

“Luce,” Sam murmured, hesitant. The reverie was broken, and eyes slid open slowly to reveal soft aquamarine. The glazed quality Lucifer’s stare held only seemed to heighten the look of pure pleasure on his face and Sam felt his skin prickle at the sight of it. Lucifer grinned, light and playful as he stepped towards Sam carefully while singing,

 

“She was practiced at the art of deception, well I could tell by her blood stained hands,” He sung out the endnote, pulling at its ends irresistibly as he came closer to the younger Winchester. Right before his pressed his lips against Sam’s he hissed temptingly, “ _You can’t always get what you want_.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

They were walking down the aisle of the Gas n’ Go when Sam turned to Lucifer and asked, “Hey you want a soda or something?”

 

         They had been on the road for almost twelve hours now, making their way into South Dakota for a case. Lucifer had tagged along, citing that he ‘shouldn’t be left to his own devices for so long.’ And even Dean couldn’t argue that the angel’s knowledge didn’t come in handy when they were in a pinch.

 

“Sure, Sam.” he smiled, looking over to the slushy machine expectantly.

 

Sam chuckled, following Lucifer’s gaze in amusement, “What flavor?”

 

“Cherry red, Sammy.” He replied, pinching him on the ass as he walked by. “Cherry red.”


	2. Bleed on Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got out of hand and turned into smut, I'm sorry but I can't be blamed for things the Devil makes me do. ;-)

“ _We all need someone we can feed on_

_And if you want it, well you can feed on me_

_Take my arm, take my leg, oh baby don't you take my head_

_Yeah, we all need someone we can bleed on_

  
_Yeah, and if you want it, baby, well you can bleed on me_ ”

 

The strains of guitar filtered throughout the bunker melodically, which had become the routine over the past few days. Every day, at three on the dot, when everyone was awake and able to tolerate actual _sound_ Lucifer would put the record on the turn table and play it as loudly as the speaker would allow. The title song of Let It Bleed had become his favorite, and he knew every word from start to finish, including the guitar solo that Sam would catch him singing under his breath when he thought no one was listening. Sam was always listening lately.

 

“If you’re gonna play this shit every day at least play a different album.” Dean huffed, voice gruff as he eyed Lucifer out of the corner of his eye. The archangel was sitting at the counter staring into his coffee mug, still not used to the taste. Sam could see the way his hand shook just slightly as he raised the mug to his lips.

 

“I like this one,” Lucifer stated simply. “The songs are good.” Dean turned to face him, giving him an indignant look.

 

“They have more then one record, you do know that right?” The older Winchester asked, looking between Lucifer and his brother expectantly. He pushed the beef he was browning for sauce around with the spatula while he stared at the other room’s occupants.

 

Lucifer turned his look of surprise on Sam, eyes only just the slightest bit wide. “There are more records by the Rolling Stones?” And it didn’t take more than a second of gazing into ice that looked so excited and expectant for Sam to grab his coat and drag Lucifer out the door by the sleeve.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sam knew an argument between Lucifer and Dean was inevitable, fated in the stars and lain out in the cards of destiny. But of all things it would be over, Sam would have never guessed.

 

“Sorry dude, Plant beats Jagger _any_ day of the week.” Dean took a swig of his beer lazily before looking at his hand. He discarded the four of diamonds and kept the six of spades.

 

“I don’t see how a piece of vegetation could beat anything, Dean.” Cas squinted at his own cards before discarding the one he didn’t want. “And stop giving me cards I don’t need, its making things difficult.”

 

“That’s kind of the point, Cas.” Sam commented, looking between his brother and the seraph.

 

Dean sighed, “He’s not an actual plant, that’s his name. Robert Plant.” He explained, sighing when the look of confusion still didn’t leave Cas’ face.

 

Lucifer knocked his fist on the table when it was his turn and everyone groaned because, _fuck_ it had only been two rounds how could they have anything over ten.

 

“I like the way Mick sings,” Lucifer stated simply, his smile mischievous as he watched his card mates woe at having to lay their hands down so early, “There’s a soulful quality to it.” He caught Sam’s eyes momentarily and the smirk intensified if that were possible and the younger Winchester rolled his eyes in response.

 

“Dude looks like a monkey,” Dean murmured, hissing as he looked at the card he’d pulled from the pile. He was so loosing a quarter. “I don’t get why you like them so much, anyway, Zep is way better.” He flicked the Ace of Diamonds (should’ve switched suits earlier) and crossed his arms petulantly.

 

“For the same reason any _human_ listens to music,” the word was said with venom and fire and he laid his cards on the table revealing 28. Dean looked like he was going to accuse Lucifer of cheating, but knew he had no evidence to back his claim so he just sighed before revealing his own cards.

 

“It inspires emotions, brings back faint memories – some you never want to forget, others you wish had stayed buried.” Lucifer felt Sam brush his leg against his under the table and smiled smally to himself.

 

‘ _You got my heart, you got my soul. You got the silver, you got the gold._ ’ Dean glared at the gramophone as everyone else showed their hand. Sam had sixteen, which tied with Dean.

 

“I don’t know what I have.” Cas stared at his cards before looking to Dean helplessly. The Winchester chuckled, pulling the cards from Cas’ hand, their fingers brushing and Sam would never let Dean live down the flush that crept onto his cheeks at the touch.

 

Dean laughed a little before managing, “You have five, Cas are you sure you know how to play?” He asked, watching the angel throw one of his four quarters into the little dish in the middle of the table crestfallenly.

 

‘ _If that’s your love, just leave me blind. I don’t care, no, that’s no big surprise.’_

 

Sam watched Lucifer’s fingers fumble as he picked up the cards to deal out the next hand.

 

* * *

 

 

“You should just put a bed in here.” Sam commented from the doorway, watching the angel reclined on the library’s couch. He had been spending his nights in the book-laden room, much to Sam’s chagrin.

 

“Only if you sleep in here with me,” He smiled but it was strained at the corners and devolving quickly into a frown. He cleared his throat, such a human gesture and Sam knew it probably tore him up inside like a dull blade hacking at flesh, and motioned for Sam to sit next to him on the sofa. He curled up next to Lucifer, his long limbs awkwardly tucked underneath him.

 

‘ _Well, we all need someone we can lean on. And if you want it, you can lean on me._ ’

 

“You really like this song,” Sam said off-handedly when he noticed Let It Bleed was playing for what seemed like the thirtieth time that day. The only response Sam got was a breathy chuckle and it took a moment for Sam to see the thin sheen of sweat and hollow cast to crystalline eyes.

 

He reached up and touched Lucifer’s cheek with the back of his hand, pressing it there softly before brushing it down to his neck where he wrapped his fingers around until they brushed the scratchy short hairs at the nape of the angel’s neck.

 

He didn’t say anything, didn’t make an observation about Lucifer looking like total _shit_ , or concoct some sarcastic remark that the Devil should learn to take care of himself because now there was no snapping his fingers and making it all better. The archangel would never listen, stubborn and prideful as he was.

 

He pulled Sam closer, pressing him against him while he nuzzled Sam’s jaw before biting the sensitive underside. He lapped at the teeth marks with thirst before sinking his incisors into the hard and thick curve of Sam’s collarbone. Sam dragged his nails down from their idle position at the base of Luce’s neck down his spine in jagged zigzagging lines before bunching in the loose t-shirt.

 

‘ _Yeah, we all need someone we can dream on. And if you want it, baby, well you can dream on me._ ’

 

Demanding lips stifled Sam’s moan, and he didn’t fight when Lucifer tugged his shirt up over his head. Always in control, because if he couldn’t control his life, his existence, then he would dominate the only part of him he had left – Sam.

 

Lucifer pushed Sam back into the couch, so he was facing forward and he straddled the Winchester’s hips before scraping his nails down the soft flesh of Sam’s sides, leaving raised pink lines that stung and made him writhe beneath the Devil. Sam smiled when he heard the breath Lucifer sucked in as he snaked a cool hand beneath the angel’s t-shirt, pressing against the burning flesh of his hard stomach. The best part of sex with Lucifer was that every sensation was like a new page waiting to be read, because nothing felt so different from energetic wavelengths than physical human form and all the sensations that came with it.

 

Sam moaned as his jeans were unbuckled and tugged out from underneath him, Lucifer’s unsteady fingers fumbled and tugged too many times but Sam didn’t mind. He watched as the sandy blonde pulled his own shirt over his head impatiently, before pulling off his own faded jeans. Sam splayed his fingers against the exposed skin of Lucifer’s torso, reaching up to steal a kiss that turned hungry and wet. He hissed when his lip was tugged between teeth and teased until it was swollen and red.

 

He smoothed his hands down Lucifer’s sides, the slight curve of his hips fitting perfectly against the palms of his hands and he gripped tight tugging the angel’s hips down against his. He listened to the sweet sound of Lucifer’s growl, making him raise his hips to grind against the angel’s again, painstakingly slow and heated.

 

‘ _Yeah, we all need someone we can cream on. And if you want to, well you can cream on me._ ’

 

“Luce,” Sam rumbled low and deep in his throat as he felt one large hand wrap around the both of them and tug, long and shaky. He pushed kisses into the side of Lucifer’s neck, nipping at the sweat-slicked skin of the junction of neck and shoulder. He bucked up when the archangel quickened his pace and he could feel the legs on either side of him quivering, making him bite harder because only Sam could _do this_ to him.

 

‘ _Bleed it alright, baby, bleed it alright, bleed it alright. You can cum all over me._ ’

 

Sam pressed his hands deep into the small of Lucifer’s back, pushing upward, supporting him and the sensation made him grunt. He pushed his forehead against Sam’s and from his position under the angel he could feel the tension swelling and building. He watched Lucifer close his eyes, the same look on his face as when he’d heard real rock n’ roll for the first time as he came and Sam couldn’t stop himself from spilling onto Luce’s hand and their chests moments later.

 

Sam waited for the ragged breathing he felt against him slow and steady itself, wrapping his long arms around the body slumped in his lap. He spoke softly into the hair on top of Lucifer’s head, “I’ll be someone to lean on.”


	3. Wild Horses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't listen to the song Wild Horses by the Rolling Stones while you read this, you're missing out. Sorry for the sap, but I couldn't resist.  
> P.S: Comments really help, if only to give encouragement and confidence.

Darkness clung to every corner in the small room, blanketing the white walls in an abysmal dark haze that washed a feeling of emptiness over Sam as he stirred from his sleep. The clock next to his bed glowed soft red into the present darkness, and he found his eyes drawn to the numbers. He blinked, clearing his sleep bleary eyes, and saw that it read 3 a.m. Shadows stroked his face, soothing him back into sleep enticingly, but the bed was cold and again emptiness raked it’s ragged fingers across his chest.

 

         He stared at the ceiling for a moment, eyes hooded and longing for the sweet slip into unconsciousness. This was the third night in a row he had awoken to an empty bed, the blankets next to him cold and disheveled. He hadn’t sought his bedmate not out of lack of concern, but out of respect for his privacy. Sam could see the way it broke a piece of him, having to ask for things, to bow and seek Sam’s help. It wasn’t in his nature, to openly show such weakness, to be _dependent._ It impressed Sam how he carried what he knew Lucifer saw as his greatest flaw with impeccable grace, but he saw past the thin veil. After all, Sam knew him better than anyone, had seen inside the raging swirling storm of his consciousness.

 

         Pushing the covers off, he slid his legs over the edge of the bed and padded down the hallway. It didn’t take long to find Lucifer, lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling much like Sam had been moments before. His hands were folded behind his head, eyes closed in two soft half moons. Still half-asleep, Sam sat down next to the body indolently stretched out before him and pulled the archangel’s head into his lap.

 

“I watched you suffer a dull aching pain, now you decided to show me the same.” Sam sang, along with the record playing, voice low and deep. He thanked God that they’d finally gotten Luce more Stones albums because he had about run a hole in the first record he’d gotten that’s how many times he’d played it. He stroked the side of Lucifer’s face, hand scratched by the blonde stubble, “No sweeping exits or off-stage lines, could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind.” his voice wasn’t as rich as the fallen angels, and it cracked a little from sleep but the smile that lazily appeared on Lucifer’s face made the embarrassment worth it.

 

“Wild horses, couldn’t drag me away. Wild, wild horses, couldn’t drag me away.” The angel of music joined in with Sam, their voices mingling against each other, in harmonious discord. The beautiful mellifluous smoothness of the blondes against the young Winchester’s coarse chorus created the kind of strange beauty that suited the pair in a way that was uniquely them.

 

Lucifer stood fluidly, hand stretching down to where Sam still lay on the carpet. He took the shorter man’s hand and stood, smirking as he watched Lucifer’s hand slide around Sam’s waist. The other grasped the hunter’s hand, their fingers lacing together before he rested his head on Sam’s shoulder.

 

“I don’t know how to dance, Luce.” Sam murmured into corn silk shaded hair, breathing in the smell of citrus and pine, earthy and natural.

 

“Shh,” was the angel’s counter, tugging Sam’s body closer to his. And all they did was sway to the slow beat of drums and the fluid guitar notes sort of coursed through Sam like a warm flame. Lucifer unlaced their hands and slid it around to Sam’s back, one hand pressed against the small of his back and the other coming to rest between his shoulder blades.

 

“I know I've dreamed you a sin and a lie, I have my freedom but I don't have much time.” The words were sung into the shirt Sam wore to bed, and the misty sound of Lucifer’s voice stirred something in him. And suddenly it wasn’t just music, or a song that the former archangel enjoyed, it was everything.

 

They had existed as enemies, as friends, as lovers, as two forces raging against each other. They had existed wholly as _one entity_. They were both broken creatures, imperfect and fractured. They were too rough sometimes and others so absolutely gentle it hurt, and Sam knew his attraction to power and need to fix flawed things was his biggest downfall, and Lucifer’s pride and blind stubbornness was his and sometimes it felt like all they were doing was playing a losing game. No hope of winning, no chance of survival, but Sam would rather die playing if it meant he could stay like this. If he could just keep this moment frozen, defy space and time, and keep his arms around this perfectly imperfect creature whose cracks and fissures always amazed and attracted him like a moth to a flame.

 

Because despite the pain, nothing could drag him away.

 

“Faith has been broken tears must be cried, let's do some living after we die.” Lucifer crooned as he nuzzled his face into the side of Sam’s neck. His breath was heavy and dewy against his jugular.

Sam clutched the body against him tighter, pushing his fingers gently through sandy hair, cradling the other’s head against his chest.

 

“Wild horses, couldn’t drag me away. Wild, wild horses we’ll ride them someday.” Sam sang, and each word was a promise he knew he would always keep.


End file.
